


panacea

by miilkteas



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Gen, Marching Band, drummajor!fitz, fitz is new to this drum major thing, friendship between freshies, i love marching band sm, just a general fic, keefe is a fool, marchingband!au, sophie is that freshman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 04:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miilkteas/pseuds/miilkteas
Summary: now taking the field, the foxfire band and color guard. in which sophie becomes the band member that no one knows they need. [ marchingband!au ]





	panacea

**Author's Note:**

> panacea - the solution to all problems
> 
> unbeta-ed, unedited, just a brain dump to avoid my homework and live vicariously through a diff marching band as the season ends.

 

Fitz Vacker loved band camp.

This might come as shocking or even insane to many, but Fitz could look anyone in the eye and say that band camp was possibly one of the best things to ever bless Foxfire High School. Perhaps this was due to the fact that their band director was his father and he had just been granted the position of Drum Major, but either way, he strolled onto the football field half an hour early with a jug of water in hand and a wide grin on his face. He had even set up his podium by himself. 

_ This guy had to be insane. _

That’s the thought that ran through everyone’s head, whether they were terrified freshmen or seasoned sophomores that dreaded the horror that they would have to go through in the two weeks they would be practicing from dawn to dusk. A group of approximately seventy people began gathering at the field throughout the next thirty minutes, most of them giving the already set-up podium a look filled with either admiration or dumbfoundedness. 

Eight o’clock. Fitz pushed his hair back with one hand, shoving a pair of sunglasses on his perfect face before clearing his throat. This was his first time doing this, holy fuck was he excited—

“BAND TEN-HUT!”

The reactions he got were dismal. A few dedicated juniors and seniors shouted, “ONE!” back with the same enthusiasm he shouted out the command, while a few sophomores mumbled something indescribable and were at attention in a somewhat lazy manner. The freshmen looked like sitting ducks, staring at each other as if that would show them exactly what to do. 

A single freshman was at attention. She had shouted back sharply, her feet perfectly in first position, never breaking eye contact. It took a moment for everyone to realize that she was a freshman, immediately breaking rank to stare at her in a combination of awe and surprise. 

_ Had she marched an open-class band? Was she a member of some coveted DCI group? That couldn’t be; she was almost a head shorter than most of the other freshmen and looked like she belonged in middle school more than anything— _

“What’s your name, freshie?” Fitz asked, pointing a finger in her direction, much to his father’s dismay. This whole Drum Major thing was seriously throwing his behavior off. 

Alden answered for her. “That’s Sophie, and she’s probably a better marcher than half of you. Learned marching basics all by herself from the internet, plays the piccolo. She’s new to Foxfire, but I’m sure she is going to make an excellent addition to our band.”

Sophie looked absolutely mortified to be put on the spot, but her eyes flashed with determination to stand her ground. The rest of the band shifted uncomfortably, having been stood up by a girl who knew nothing but YouTube tutorials yet was more dedicated than all of them. The first part of the day played out like the scene in Mulan, in which Fitz circled the group, who had finally realized that they needed to be in a block.

“First things first, I am the Drum Major, which means you listen to me as much as you listen to any staff member here,” he said calmly, eyes scanning the group for any dissenters. There were none. “The most important command is being called to attention. When I say, ‘band ten-hut,’ you are required to stand with your hands to your side and your feet in first position. I will know if you are listening because you will reply with, ‘one.’ Is that clear?”

“YES SIR,” cried the group. The freshmen started to catch on, a few braver ones finally saying something. Things were finally going the way Fitz envisioned. A junior, who was too busy eyeing a reed case dropped on the ground, replied too late. 

All eyes turned to him, Fitz’s mouth curling up in a smile. Of course, it had to be his best friend, constantly distracted and looking for new ways to prank others. “Thank you, Keefe. That’s going to be ten push-ups. You can do your punishment during the break. For all you newbies, just remember that you don’t speak when you’re attention and for the love of God, don’t be Keefe.” 

The rest of the morning went by rather eventfully, with the band learning new marching techniques and various basic commands while building up their stamina through constant conditioning. Fitz silently was disappointed by how sunny it was; he played in the pit before this happened and was indoors for the past two years of band camp. By the time it was noon, the group was exhausted. 

They were finally dismissed for a lunch break, and Sophie took the opportunity to sit down in the shade for some much-needed rest. Much of band camp was about basics and conditioning, and she was the farthest thing from being in shape.

She and the other freshmen huddled together in the shade of a nearby tree, taking turns introducing themselves. This was mostly for Sophie’s benefit, as most of them had known each other since they were little. 

“I’m Biana,” one of them said once no one else wanted to go first. “I’m in the color guard.”

Well, she certainly belonged there—she had all the looks and the charisma that screamed: “I spin flags around and cover myself in glitter on the daily!” Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and by the time she finished introducing herself, Sophie was convinced that she was related to Fitz. Their enthusiasm for band camp seemed to run in the family.

A boy with strawberry blonde hair introduced himself next. Sophie remembered him carrying a bass drum that was far too big for him and wondered if the harness would snap due to the sheer weight of it. “I’m Dex. In drumline, yeah,” he said quite skittishly, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “I play bass two. But because of how short I am it looks like a bass ten…”

For your information, a bass ten didn’t exist, so Dex’s exaggeration was nothing short of funny.

They all laughed for quite some time, continuing to introduce themselves (Marella played the clarinet, and Jensi was on trombone.) Sophie got a few questions about how she single-handedly made every upperclassman look bad in front of the new drum major, but other than that, it was simple banter and good times all around.

Second block came all too quickly for the freshmen: sectionals.

They were to divide into their respective sections, spread across the shade of various trees that were on campus and practice their music. Clearly, some of the students had other ideas. Keefe was busy chasing around some sophomores while attempting to empty his instrument of the saliva that had collected inside while Fitz desperately tried to maintain order. 

“KEEFE!” he shouted, about to pop a vein. His first day as drum major and it was already going horribly. It was shameful, and at this rate, he was going to break his instrument.

“You can’t stop me,” Keefe yelled back in glee, nearly tripping over his own feet, “but I guess everything else can!”

The next half hour was spent trying to tackle Keefe, much to everyone’s amusement. The few that were playing their instruments with the right songs played half-heartedly, mostly because they were freshmen and clearly did not know what else to do. Many of the upperclassmen egged Keefe on or played older shows from previous years. 

Fitz felt like he was going to explode.

Clearly, the freshmen would never respect someone who lost their cool so quickly. Keefe had to be restrained. Chasing him was no good, nor would punishing every trumpet in the band be any better. Sophie, meanwhile, had rallied the woodwinds of the band into a sort of arc. They sight-read the first song of their show together, occasionally putting down their instruments to ask for help.

Progress was slow—it took two hours to successfully play the first page at show tempo all the way through—but it was better than nothing especially with a freshman leading them. Somehow, someway, they had all accepted that she was significantly better than them and didn’t argue with her comments. During this time, Keefe had somehow disappeared somewhere around campus, and Fitz was at a loss for words. 

By the time the two of them returned, Sophie was conducting somewhat awkwardly. Fitz’s face drained of blood at the sight of this, but the real kicker was that his father was nodding along to what he was listening to outside the arc.  _ Ah, fiddlesticks.  _

_ Way to set the example, Fitz. Those guys respect a freshman more than your headass,  _ he thought to himself. As the season progressed, it became more and more evident that Sophie was the person the band never knew it needed. 

The band quickly found out that Sophie was magically proficient in many instruments, and could pick up a new one as quickly as a few weeks. Whenever someone wasn’t sure about a certain bar, they went to her. Whenever they ran out of valve oil, she somehow had a little bottle in the back of her locker. Once, she even had a new pair of sticks after the center snare broke hers after a particularly long practice. 

By the time drill was implemented, she was one of the few that hit her sets consistently everytime. Alden was convinced that she had to be some prodigy or world-class marcher. The first football game came too quickly, especially for the seniors.

Stand songs were simple enough—anything set the crowd off, really. Halftime was where things really mattered. It was the first time they would be performing in front of a crowd so large. For many of the freshmen, this was a cause of their nerves. Even a few upperclassmen found themselves gulping at the sight of the full bleachers. 

It was time.

As they marched onto the field, Sophie could hear the man in the box announcing them. “Taking the field is the Foxfire Band and Colorguard from Lost Cities, California. The Foxfire Band and Colorguard is under the student leadership of drum major Fitz Vacker, percussion captain Tam Song, and auxiliary captain Jolie Ruewen. Now performing their 20XX show, “The Black Swan,” the Foxfire Stadium is pleased to welcome the Foxfire Band and Colorguard. Drum major, is your band ready?” 

A few whoops and hollers came from the stands after Fitz did his flashy salute to the box (the kind that would be mocked in the DCI world for being too over-the-top.) After counting off for a few moments, the show began. The first song went off without a hitch. 

However, the second song was where things started to go wrong. The band began to tear, but miraculously, they came together to finish the show. Fitz had a sneaking suspicion that it was Sophie, their panacea, their solution to everything. As he stepped down from the podium, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! a nice comment goes a long way :-)


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